Page 43 of Summer's Echo
“That’s a loaded question,” I said, wiping my mouth after brushing my teeth. I was still in Echo’s childhood bedroom, slowly pulling myself together to face the day.
“Have you talked to him?” she continued to probe.
I didn’t have to ask whohimwas. I shook my head as if she could see me.
“No, not yet.” I sighed, smoothing lotion over my face. “I need to see Mama and Daddy first, then I’ll call him.”
“Okay. See you soon. Love you, Pooh,” Raqi said.
“I love you, too.”
I wrapped myself in a towel and sat on the bed, stilling for a moment. The smell of bacon curled through the air, teasing my stomach. Echo insisted on making breakfast before driving me to my parents’ house, and the thought made my chest tighten. I still couldn’t believe I’d spent the night in this house—or that I was walking around this room half-naked like I had a right to. The twenty unread texts and countless missed calls told me it was time. No more delaying. No more pretending. And if the waters weren’t already muddy enough, I had confessed my love for Echo. I told him. I admitted that it had always been him—the man I saw beside me in my dreams, the one I had never quite let go of.
After Brooke’s wedding, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Echo, couldn’t ignore how easily he still slipped under my skin. Our exchange had been brief, but once again, he’d left a lasting impression, the way only he ever had. I’d had my fair share of relationships, but none of them ever compared to Echo. He was my first everything. All those years ago, that boy had planted something in my heart that I’d never allowed to bloom with another man—until Deshawn. Or so I thought. Deshawn was a good man at an okay time, and I had let my biological clock make a decision my heart should have controlled. It was an awful excuse, but it was my ugly truth—and today, I would finally be honest with him.
“Hey.” The sound of Echo’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. He stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, watching me the way he always had—like he saw everything.
I zipped up the hoodie he’d given me to wear, offering a closed-mouth smile. “Hey.”
“You good?” he asked.
I shrugged because I wasn’t good or bad. I was just eager to get through this day and the next one without too much damage.
“I hear you.” He nodded, smiling softly, like he could read every emotion I hadn’t voiced.
Echo extended his hand, palm up, ready to receive me. I exhaled, grateful that in the middle of this storm, I had at least one anchor. I grabbed my purse and then his hand. He pulled me into his frame, warm and solid, supporting me without words. Pressing his lips to my temple, he murmured, “I got you, Summer. You hear me?” His fingers tilted my chin, urging my eyes to his. I swallowed hard, nodding.
I stared blankly at the muted gray sky as I rode in the passenger seat of Echo’s rental car. The rich reds, burnt oranges, and deep yellows of the trees should’ve appeared vibrant, but today, they were dull, empty—just like my mood. The Abaras’ house was only about twenty minutes from my parents’ home, yet time dragged, stretching unbearably, as if we were driving to Mars. My stomach twisted when we pulled up in front of the familiar brick ranch-style house. Everything looked normal, but I knew better. Behind those walls, chaos waited.
My heart stalled at the sight of the sleek black Mercedes-Benz coupe parked ahead of us.Deshawn.Raqi failedto mention that detail,I thought, swallowing hard. Echo reached for the door handle, but I grabbed his arm before he could step out.
“You should go,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.
He looked at me like I’d just grown ten heads. “Summer,” he said, his tone patient but firm, “I’m not trying to make things harder for you. I’m walking you to that door, and I won’t leave until I know you’re okay.”
I exhaled slowly, watching as he climbed out of the car and rounded to my side. When he opened my door, he hesitated, reaching slightly for my hand before pulling back at the last second. I was grateful—his restraint was an act of respect…understanding. Before we could reach the first step of the porch, the front door swung open. My father stepped out, his expression tangled with emotions I couldn’t unravel, but the strongest was relief.
“Daddy,” I choked, stepping forward, tears blurring my vision, “I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t need to speak words. He just wrapped me in his arms, rocking us side to side, pressing kisses into my hair the way he had when I was a little girl.
“Shh,”he soothed, his voice thick with emotion. “Shh,baby. It’s okay.”
“Summer.” My mother’s voice trembled, raw and aching, pulling me from my father.
Our eyes met, hers flooded with worry and a hint of knowing. I couldn’t speak. I just fell into her embrace. Somewhere behind me, I heard my father’s hushed voice ask Echo, “Is she alright?”
“No,” Echo answered honestly, “but I think she will be.”
Mama ushered me into the house. I didn’t lift my head, even when two more sets of arms wrapped around me—my sisters. And then, a quiet voice, one that never carried unnecessary softness said, “We love you, baby girl.”My brother. The safety of their arms steadied me, and after what felt like forever, I finally pulled back to meet my mother’s gaze.
“I’m so sorry, Mama,” I whispered, my voice thick, “but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t marry him.” Silence stretched for a beat then struck like a lightning bolt, shattering the moment.
“Why not?”
The voice wasn’t Mama’s. The load it carried was heavy and restrained, sending a cold shiver down my spine. I swallowed hard, my eyes shifting over my mother’s shoulder. Deshawn stood at the entrance of the kitchen, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his dark eyes locked onto mine. Dressed in a black Nike tracksuit, his posture was tense, his expression unreadable—but beneath the hardened lines of his face, anger simmered, coiling tight. He deserved an explanation.
I inhaled sharply. “Shawn,” I started, keeping my voice even, “let’s go out back.”
